


show me how the bones shake

by figure8



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2734700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/figure8/pseuds/figure8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You’re going to catch your death,” Adam says as he opens the door.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	show me how the bones shake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aud/gifts).



> i'm still reading the dream thieves this is probably SO out of character i have NO idea what i'm doing
> 
> title from lions by lights. i dare you to find a song that screams ronan more than this one

“You’re going to catch your death,” Adam says as he opens the door, before he can even really take in the miserable image Ronan presents, soaking wet in only a dark grey t-shirt and jeans.

“I’m sure you’d mourn me,” Ronan mutters under his breath, stepping inside. “Got a towel, Parrish?”

Adam rolls his eyes, grabs one from behind the bathroom door and throws it at Ronan’s head. “Yeah, Ronan. I actually have towels in my shithole. This one is even clean, too.”

Ronan is too busy drying the little hair he has to snark back at him. Adam wonders what he was thinking, running here in the rain when he has a car.

Ronan sighs, throws the towel on the mattress. “God, I need a hot bath.”

“That’s too bad,” Adam says, deadpan. “I only have a shower, and a relatively short-lived hot water allowance.” Ronan pinches the bridge of his nose in distaste. “You wound me, Parrish.” He takes off his shirt and Adam’s breath catches a little in his throat. It doesn’t mean anything.

“You can take a hot shower,” Adam says quickly. “I didn’t mean—I wouldn’t _actually_ let you die of pneumonia. Gansey would never talk to me again,” he adds in a half-assed attempt to turn it into a joke.

Ronan’s eyes turn awfully soft. “I know you wouldn’t.” He pops the button of his stylish black jeans open with a snap of two fingers, the motion terribly manly and appealing at the same time. His half naked body looks like a promise. Adam’s gaze follows the tattoo almost by rote, magnetized. The muscles of his back, the squareness of his shoulders. The sharp pang of want at the pit of Adam’s stomach is familiar, but it feels brand new every time. He tries to remember the last time he craved Blue’s smile on his own. He cannot.

Carefully, Ronan removes his shoes and sets them next to the bathroom’s entrance. He hisses when his bare toes hit the cold tile and Adam chuckles. He sobers up immediately when Ronan turns back to stare at him, eyes of a killer. _He looks like a stray cat,_ Adam thinks absurdly. He always thought _he_ was the stray, but he’s realising lately they all are. Ronan, Noah, Blue, even Gansey. They’re a pack of bizarre, estranged animals that found each other. Bound by blood and magic. _And all Adam can think of is the small of Ronan Lynch’s back._

“You can touch, you know?” Ronan says abruptly.

“ _What?_ ”

“Me. If you’re going look like that—like—you might as well touch.”

“Like what?” Adam presses, deliberately avoiding the actual point. “I wasn’t looking,” he lies right after.

“I could _feel your eyes through my skin_ , Adam. Like you’re gonna eat me alive,” he adds after a pause, voice lower. He was trying to be cocky at first, all confidence and superiority, but he just sounds lost now.

“I wasn’t,” Adam tries again. He doesn’t sound convincing to his own ears. Ronan looks away.

“I’m going to take that fucking shower. You can have your freak-out while I warm up.”

Adam actually goes to sit on his sad excuse for a bed and puts his head between his knees. He can’t believe Ronan ordered him to have an identity crisis and he’s _actually doing it_.

“I like girls,” he tells the wall. The wall, unsurprisingly, doesn’t say anything back. He can hear the water running and Ronan humming lightly, and it’s not hard to imagine him, undressed and vulnerable, droplets and droplets running along his torso and music at the tip of his tongue. _Fuck_ , Adam thinks. _Fuck_.

Suddenly, there’s no sound coming from the bathroom anymore, and the door creaks as Ronan asks, “Adam?”

Adam straightens up hastily before replying, “Yes?”

“I didn’t think about a change of clothes,” Ronan admits. Adam closes his eyes and breathes in slowly. “I can lend you a shirt. There’s probably a pair of jeans that fits you, too. Wait a second.”

He passes Ronan the clothes through the cracked door without looking. His friend snorts. “You’ve seen me naked before.”

“It’s different,” Adam blushes.

His shirt is too small on Ronan, Adam realizes as soon as he steps out. It stretches nicely over his shoulders and chest, revealing a sharp hip as he moves. His skin is still damp, his lips red from the heat of a steaming shower. Adam is tempted to internally swear again. “You’re a menace,” he says instead.

Ronan smiles happily, all teeth. “I know.”

“I like girls,” Adam says again, because it feels important somehow.

“I know,” Ronan repeats. “I’ve seen you ogle enough of them.”

“But I—like you. Too.” He feels utterly ridiculous, like a third-grader confessing to a crush.

Ronan beams at him. “It’s okay. There’s even a word for that,” he teases smugly.

“Oh please, don’t start with me,” Adam rolls his eyes. “You have ‘I told you so’ written all over your face.”

“You should kiss me,” Ronan cuts him off. He backtracks frenziedly as soon as the words exit his mouth, “I mean. You _shouldn’t._ But you can, and it sounds like a fantastic idea to me. You’re nervous. I’m a great kisser. Match made in heaven.”

Adam smirks. “Is that so?”

They’re almost chest to chest now, so close Ronan can probably count the freckles on his nose.

“Yeah,” Ronan smiles, his fingers finding Adam’s wrist. He gently presses his thumb to the pulse point. “See?” he whispers, “Your heart is beating too fast. _Nervous_.”

Adam closes his eyes and thinks of the roughness of asphalt under his knees and open palms and pain exploding inside his body and the soft sound of Ronan’s fist colliding with his father’s nose. He thinks of blue irises and an immense sadness that he doesn’t know how to stop. He thinks of the tightness in Ronan’s shoulders every time they encounter Declan. He thinks of Ronan grinning crookedly at Chainsaw and the reverence with which he touches her black feathers. He thinks, _oh. Oh._

“Whatcha gonna do about it?” he asks, voice wrecked, slipping back into his Henrietta accent because he doesn’t care. Right now, he doesn’t care. It’s exhilarating.

Ronan kisses him.

 

 


End file.
